


you and me and me and you

by notquiteaghost



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Depression, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-17
Updated: 2013-07-17
Packaged: 2017-12-20 12:34:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notquiteaghost/pseuds/notquiteaghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Courfeyrac gets home from work, he already knows something's off. Grantaire has been replying to texts sporadically and monosyllabically for a couple of hours, and Courfeyrac managed to convince Eponine to let him off early, after he broke two cups and a plate because he was too busy worrying to pay any attention to his surroundings.</p><p>So, when he lets himself into the flat and finds Grantaire curled up in bed, in the dark, only his head visible above the duvet, listening to Fall Out Boy loud enough the neighbours are probably going to complain, and cuddling at least three cats, he isn't surprised. He isn't happy about it, but he isn't surprised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you and me and me and you

**Author's Note:**

> for [this](http://makinghugospin.livejournal.com/13488.html?thread=9936560#t9936560) kink meme prompt. title's from 'get busy living' by fall out boy.

When Courfeyrac gets home from work, he already knows something's off. Grantaire has been replying to texts sporadically and monosyllabically for a couple of hours, and Courfeyrac managed to convince Eponine to let him off early, after he broke two cups and a plate because he was too busy worrying to pay any attention to his surroundings.

So, when he lets himself into the flat and finds Grantaire curled up in bed, in the dark, only his head visible above the duvet, listening to Fall Out Boy loud enough the neighbours are probably going to complain, and cuddling at least three cats, he isn't surprised. He isn't happy about it, but he isn't surprised.

(If Courfeyrac lets himself think about it, then he really should have worked it out this morning. When Grantaire didn't eat breakfast and didn't meet Courfeyrac's eye and almost let him leave without a kiss, he should have known then. He shouldn't have gone into work, he should have made sure Grantaire was okay instead.

But he didn't and he did and he can't dwell on it. God knows there's enough needless self-depreciating guilt in this relationship already.)

"R?" Courfeyrac asks, standing in the doorway of their bedroom after he's shrugged off his coat and toed off his shoes and turned the music down a notch or two. "You okay?"

Grantaire doesn't reply. He just burrows further under the duvet and hums along to Get Busy Living for a couple of bars. The movement jostles one of the cats, but she merely adjusts and resettles. There's a lot of casual, unthinking adjustment in this flat.

Courfeyrac picks her up, repositioning her to make room for him to snuggle up to Grantaire,wrapping an arm around Grantaire's waist and pressing a kiss into his hair. With a sigh, a low huff of air that's somewhere between pleased and exhausted, Grantaire leans back into him, so they're as close as physically possible.

"Jehan and Combeferre came in today." Courfeyrac starts, his voice low and casual and comforting, a tone he's perfected more through repeated use than any kind of effort on his part. "They were on a date. Not too sure if they knew they were on a date, but they were so on a date. Jehan was grinning fit to burst, and I think I honest-to-God saw Combeferre blush. It was adorable. Eponine took pictures."

Grantaire huffs at that. It's not quite a laugh, but it's something. He's trying. He always gets points for trying.

"And then Feuilly came in," Courfeyrac continues, "He wants your opinion on this piece he's doing, by the way. Something about fancy use of lighting as some kind of metaphor or something? I wasn't really listening, but he said he'd text you." At some point, Courfeyrac's started stroking one hand through Grantaire's hair. "Anyway, he sat in the corner, like always, and this girl sat opposite him and starting complementing his sketches. They were talking for ages, though it was all artist speak and it went right over my head. I'm pretty sure he got her number. And then there was an incident with the coffee machine..."

Courfeyrac talks for almost forty minutes, spouting out anything and everything that comes to mind. Stories about his day, gossip about their friends, gossip about strangers, the plot of last night's Criminal Minds episode, his theory about the Criminal Minds season finale. He knows that, for Grantaire, it's more about the sound of his voice than the actual words. He could probably recite the alphabet over and over and it'd have the exact same affect.

After forty minutes, Grantaire is laughing (even if, okay, it's quiet and kind of subdued laughter, but it's actual, proper laughter and so Courfeyrac will take it) at all of the right points and interrupting with the occasional sarcastic comment, and so Courfeyrac interrupts himself mid-tirade to say, "Want to come get some ice cream? There's Cookie Dough in the freezer."

He doesn't say 'Think you're capable of getting up?' or 'Think you can trust yourself to be in the same room as sharp things?' or 'Any chance you've got your appetite back?'. He doesn't need to, because Grantaire hears it all anyway, but Courfeyrac still does him the courtesy of not voicing it all out loud. Courfeyrac will make things as easy as he can at any and every given opportunity, because this is Grantaire and Grantaire deserves it.

Grantaire nods, and so they untangle from the duvet and the cats and head for the kitchen. One cat follows them and two more are already sitting on the counter expectantly, so Courfeyrac dishes them out some food before grabbing the ice cream, and Grantaire fusses over the kitten (not technically a kitten anymore, hasn't really been a kitten for a year or so at this point, but he's the only cat they've had from kittenhood and so he'll always be The Kitten).

Courfeyrac doesn't bother with bowls - that's just creating unnecessary washing up - and instead he grabs two cartons of Cookie Dough and two spoons and steers Grantaire into the living room by his elbow.

Once there, they curl up on the sofa, Grantaire tucked into Courfeyrac's side and Courfeyrac's arm around him, pulling him close. "D'you want to watch Tremors or Gremlins?"

"Gremlins." Grantaire says, his voice slightly muffled by Courfeyrac's ribs.

Courfeyrac nods, digs the remote out from the side of the sofa, and plays the film.

Tomorrow, Grantaire will wake up and stretch and grin at him, and something about the way he moves will be happier and more content than the day before in ways Courfeyrac can't explain. But today, he's still radiating unhappiness with every breath, so Courfeyrac is going to hold him close and mutter sweet nothings in his ear and feed him ice-cream until he falls asleep, because that might not fix everything forever, but it does make it a little more bearable, and that's all he can do.

**Author's Note:**

> i am here [here](http://idoubtthereforeimightbe.tumblr.com) on tumblr.
> 
> (tremors is the best film ever, and if you haven't seen it yet, you should get right on that)


End file.
